Umbrella Surveillance System
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Behemoth The French government has declared a temporary state of emergency. Throughout the city, strict curfews have been implemented, aiming to clear the streets when night falls; public entrances to the tunnels and catacombs beneath the city have been put on constant lockdown. An increased police presence can be seen around the barbed-wire fences, walls, and barricades that encircle the approximately eight blocks of tainted metropolis. They are armed, they are persistent, and without exception, they are haunted. Sallow of face, dark of eye, the discomfort writ plain upon their countenances does not suit the official story disseminated in the wake of the media black out; this is not a fear of gas mains and diminished structural integrity.

But people talk. An off-duty cop, drunk and shaken, mentions beastly screams and inhuman figures. A tourist goes missing and turns up mauled to death as if by wild animals. Rumors abound of walking corpses and cannibalistic murder sprees-- and always, always the stories trace back to this locked-down area, no matter how vehemently politicians and police chiefs deny any threat.

This evening, when the air is cool, the F.B.C. has been called. The city government has requested aid with dealing with certain matters of which that organization is intimately familiar. They are here to play monster hunter, and join the police patrol gathering up at one of the main gates.. accompanying a fortified fire engine, as the smoke pouring over the fences indicates something has caught fire.

The others? They have their own reasons.
Emma Emma is not FBC. Nor is she BSAA - hell, she is just.. Emma. A young woman working hard to be a doctor, and making her way through life. But she is here, dressed in, surprise, armour, because the lass knows full well that if she came, without it, there would be hell to pay. It's an undergarment, and a top of that is a pair of black yoga pants, and a black long sleeved top. Over her shoulder is her medkit, because someone will likely get hurt here.

Strapped to her thigh, of all things, is a pistol. It looks so out of place on her, a weapon isn't fitting as something for her to carry, but for this it is necessary.

The reasons for being here are personal, this is to much of a reminder of Racoon, of working in the hospital, of all the people, men, women, hell even children that came in bit, and being helpless to do anything about it, knowing their fate. So here and now, there may be a slim chance to stop that. To make sure history doesn't repeat itself. Tossing her long, braided red hair over her shoulder, and using a deep breathing technique learned from her meditation classes, the budding doctor awaits her chance to go in, to revisit the horrors, and hopefully, find victory over them.
Poncho      Amidst the sober uniforms of FBC, local police, and the odd fire fighter, one particular man stands out. His form bulked by a suit of battered black riot gear, he could be here with the FBC. The gas mask he wears suggests that maybe he's one of the fire fighters, given some special job that requires the extra protection. However, in no group does his ragged grey poncho belong. The torn old garment hangs limply from his shoulders, blending well into the smoky surrounds, and hiding whatever gear might be tucked away close to his armor.
     Shotgun directed up and over his left shoulder in port arms, Poncho makes his way along the left side of the reinforced vehicle. With every second step his right foot drags across the dirty cement, the man's limping progress slow but dogged.
     A hoarse grunt comes rasping out through the filters of Poncho's mask as he limps up beside Emma. He apparently feels no need to actually use words, but it is a greeting of sorts, offered as he takes up position on her left side. Maybe they'll just assume he's with her, and since she's a medic, well, don't F with the healer.
James Scott "The things I do for love." James mutters, checking his armor and weapons over one last time. He'd almost grown used to the relative peace, but he may as well have been back in Raccoon now. There was something new building up in his chest, a mixture between excitement and fear. It was a good chance to motivate him to become even stronger.

He would be unrecognizable to anybody that hadn't already seen him, clad in black armor that bore no insignia. This wasn't the USS armor, rather it more closely resembled Legion Centurion armor. A darkly tinted respirator hides his face, the figure could be anybody from any organization.

He wasn't dumb enough to move with the crowd, rather when Vivienne got her marching orders he went ahead and set up shop, picking out a nice place to wait before moving out and joining the group.
Bob Duty calls and Bob responds, ready to finally confront the new terrors of biological warfare. Excitement and fear fill him and a smile wants to appear, but he manages to keep it under wraps. His aid bag is on his back and his PDW is slung across his chest, ready to be put into action. Keeping his breathing even and expression as relaxed as he can so as to give confidence to the people around, Bob checks out the equipment on the police nearby, making sure they've got their proper gear with them to ensure they've got the best chance of survival. "Bon," he tells an officer as he pats him on the shoulder, possibly exhausting his command of French.

It's not too long before he catches some of the civilians milling around, noticing Emma in particular. A wince forms on his face, followed by a deep sigh as he closes his eyes for a second. Opening them, he takes a deep breath and steps away from the cops to give her and the poncho clad fellow seemingly accompanying her a wave.

Once he's more or less off by himself he looks around for the other FBC guys in the crowd, motioning them away from the cops they're looking over to come his way, "You guys ready to rock?" Once again, he has to suppress his smile, nervous or otherwise there's one ready to come out, "How are your cops looking? Mine seem pretty squared away. The Frogs are pretty serious."
Vivienne Viv stands off to one side, checking her ammunition and the straps on her vest. She takes up position near the fortified fire engine, her eyes alert. Several weapons can be seen strapped to her person, but she holds her pistol at the ready.

She has already checked the equipment on several of the officers and found it to be satisfactory. She doesn't say anything to Bob when he starts to speak, just gives him a simple nod and a brief, tight flash of a grin.
Chase Dalton Chase Dalton looks around for the seniormost official on the local side, and heads over, flashing his FBC badge. "Salutations. Je m'appelle Chase Dalton. Je suis de la Federal Bioterrorism Commission." He pauses, and begins gesturing to his people. "Ce sont mes associes, Roberto Delgado," indicating Bob, "Vivienne Asherion," Vivienne, "Esa Collins," Esa. He focuses his attention on the official. "Mon equipe devrait etre prete sous peu. J'espere que votre equipe est prete?"
Esa Stepping out of one the Suburbans, Esa looked toward the main gates with a small frown. The P90 strapped against his chest while the pistol was holstered at his side. He wasn't a combat specialist; just a technical operator.

Opening the door behind him, he sets the P90 down and hefted a backpack out and slung it over his shoulders. Retrieving the P90 he slung it to a clip at his side. The backpack was simple, small and lightweight; but contained technical tools that may or may not come in handy.

Spotting Emma and Poncho, he walked over to them quietly. He looks toward Emma for a moment; some concern showing before his facial features go back to a passive look. "Follow me." He tells them quietly before heading to the main FBC group; stating to Chase "These two are with me; a secondary field medic and shooter who are equally adept for the situation inside." He informs him.
Behemoth The French police assume Poncho is with the F.B.C. and they assume he's with the French-- after all, what sort of person would think to join this excursion illegally? It's the same sentiment that sees Emma unbothered by comments; of course a medic would be on this venture, and none of the grunts question it. Besides, the anxious tension that fills so many of them keeps them from investigating anything in close detail.

When at last the forces are gathered, there's a blare of a fire engine's horn and then a rattling and a rumbling as French officers move to open the front of the fence, lifting and pushing the sliding partition to make an opening. The street lies ahead, leading into the quarantine zone.

Here, at the border, it looks the same as the surrounding city blocks. The explosion did not damage the buildings here, and the roads are in good condition; even the alleys have been picked clean by animal scavengers. A stack of smoke, pale grey when it reaches this far, stretches across the sky like a cloud that got lost. The sunlight dapples glittering glass storefronts and gleaming roadside poles.

Another honk, and the fire engine roars. A second has since pulled up behind it, and this small caravan is what will progress through the zone, the two of them moving in neat, steady single file. Their alarms are kept off. No reason to wake the dead.
Emma Emma is a lot calmer now than she had been in the past, mostly because this isn't her first rodeo, and she isn't alone, daring the wilds of Zombie ridden grounds. Shuffling her feet a little, getting use to the feel of the AK (Because player mixed up guns) on her. It's just not liked. Looking up as Poncho stands by her, there isn't much said in greeting, just a small, slightly unsure smile in greeting, yet the lass does feel a little safer with him at her side.

That's when grey-green eyes spare a glance around, seeing who else is here. Bob is spotted, he gets a small smile and nod in greeting, so is James and Vivienne, they get a greeting much the same. It's Esa who gets a longer glance, as he comes up to them. Jaw tenses a bit, mostly because the red head was awaiting some sort of 'why are you here its dangerous' remark. But none come. "Oh - okay." Seems like a good idea, and thus that's what she'll do.

As the convoy is about to go, her gaze moves to Chase. "'ey, didn' get ta say hi at tha party, so, hi." She says in a way of greeting.

Taking a spot, the lass sits, and watches as the convoy goes out, eyes on the smoke, the bare streets, a hand more on her medkit than on her weapon, an action done purely from habit.
Poncho      The opaque lenses of Poncho's mask turn on Esa at his approach, throwing a smoky reflection back at the man. The shotgun wielding old psycho doesn't speak, but he does step forward, limping along with Emma and the hacker to join his FBC buds.
     As they walk, the old X detective calmly snaps the safety off of his shotgun, though he does not yet lower it from port arms. Still, any veteran of a few monster hunts will know that trigger discipline is important, but it can get you killed. Snap shots save lives.
     Paying attention also saves lives. And so with that in mind, Poncho steps up onto the vehicle beside Emma and stands, shifting his face slowly back and forth to stretch his limited vision as far as it will go. If this were an active war time situation, what he is doing would be really dumb. He's practically begging for a sniper to plug him.
James Scott When the group rolls out, James interjects himself into them ending up next to Vivienne. He could be one of them except his taste in weapons is a little.. different. Unlike anybody else he seems geared to get as close as he can and fight dirty, sporting a nasty pair of brass knuckles and a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. The teen was looking to pick a fight, injured ribs be damned.

"We're surrounded." he finally speaks up after a while of silence, his voice unrecognizeable as it's altered through his respirator. "Fangs out if they aren't already, it's gonna get messy here soon." He speaks with the confidence of somebody who's been in this exact situation before. "Anything infected get close take 'em out quiet. We're already making too much noise as it is."
Bob The civilians Esa brings over get a smile from Bob as Esa himself gets a little squint as poor Bob isn't quite certain what's happening. After a second or two he seems willing to go with it as he is new to the unit, after all, and maybe this is somethng that happens. "The more, the merrier," he says as he looks over the guy in the poncho again. Extending his right hand he introduces himself, "Sergeant Bob Delgado."

The horns go off and Bob looks over his shoulder to see the fence moving out of the way. He moves into position quickly, shouldering his weapon and getting ready to rock. His eyes are peeled for trouble as they start to move, but soon he's looking back to check on the people around him, showing his concern for the guys he's with. At James' warning Bob looks back to outside the convoy, scanning the fronts of buildings with his weapon at the ready.
Chase Dalton "'gado," Chase notes, giving Bob a swat to grab his attention, and then dispensing with hand-signals. "Eyes up, head on a swivel. Weapons tight unless verified hostile, and you have a clear shot. Minimal casualties. And keep it quiet; remember noise discipline." He keeps his weapon close at hand, a round chambered. Hopefully the shit won't hit the fan and make /too/ much of a mess...
Vivienne Vivienne walks along with the slow rumble of the fire engines as the fence opens to admit them. She stays quiet, eyes on her surroundings until James speaks up. She frowns then, aiming a brief irritated glance at the large rescue vehicles. She brings up her pistol so she's ready to fire.
Esa Having taken responsibility for the two, Esa placed himself with Poncho and Emma; sitting next to Emma as Poncho decided to stand and slide the backpack off for now. His hand fell to his pistol silently at the orders coming from Chase; though not hearing James. He glanced momentarily at Emma and gave a soft smile before looking back out to city landscape.
Behemoth The caravan comes to a slow halt, the weight of the lead truck seeing it coast ahead until it stops with a shake. The group is at an intersection-- the street continues forward and back, but the smoke is more on the right, which is where the branch goes. The truck ought to turn and continue. But right in the middle of the street, sitting down, head on her chest and seemingly asleep, is a woman. She's wearing a stained blouse and skirt to complement the secretary look, with her hair in a half-undone bun. The sun glitters off her brown locks.
Emma Not as astute as the others, Emma isn't really looking or knowing how to look for enemies. Though it isn't much of a surprise that the barbed-wire-bat-wielding-man had noticed the dangers lurking around them. Eyes flicker up, fixed on said man, head tilted briefly. "Good - good eyes, Balor." The lass says simply, in a level tone, even if under that some bits of anxiety begins to run.

A hand moves to her AK, gripping it more out of nerves, knuckles turn while. A glance is moved to Poncho, and then moves to Esa, with a barely managed smile that may be the only indication of nerves.

When the vehicle stops, eyes move to the woman. Yeah, this doesn't seem right. Moving a bit between the others, being James, Viv, Chase.. Bob, her big eyes are fixed on the sleeping woman. "I - I can go see if she is hurt, an' ya'all can cover me. I'm quick. Someone can come - come with me too." It's an offer to help, one she knows already will get a big giant 'NO' as a response but she just can't help wanting to help, but the Scottish woman moves to a spot to hop out -just- in case the idea works.
Poncho      Rather than use words like a well-mannered human, Poncho simply shifts his armored bulk sideways, using his right elbow to crowd her back toward her seat. The hoarse grunt that follows speaks volumes all on its own about how dumb an idea it would be for her to jump out and run toward that very obvious trap. It's either an infected corpse, or an infected monster.
     or a lonely woman, stranded and hurt...
     NO!
     Turning, Poncho braces himself against the frame of the truck and scans the surrounding buildings, waiting for the flood of infected that his gut says should be coming. He could be wrong, right? Maybe this isn't a trap? Maybe there isn't a hoard of zombies waiting to rush them.
Esa Esa placed a hand on Emma's shoulder to stop her from bounding off the truck and shook his head. "Let the forward team check first." He replies "Then, if it's clear we will send a medic." He notes in a calm manner.
James Scott "Hold." James raises his fist, indicating everyone, including Emma should stop. "I fell for this back in Raccoon, if she's recently infected she'll be faster than a walker. If they're out here assume they're already dead." Despite the advice he offered he starts towards toward them, "Everyone on your toes, get ready in case it's a trap."
Vivienne Vivienne goes still when she sees the woman sitting in the street. She absolutely feels that anyone in the quarantine zone is probably infected and her raised weapon at the ready reflectes that sentiment. She waits for the officer on point to give instructions, her eyes gazing around to make sure nothing is creeping up beside or behind the group.
Bob As everything stops and people quit moving, Bob's not one of those who can sit still. He says to the people nearby, "Cover me, guys. Get ready to drop her if she's infected." He moves towards the lady, weapon at the ready and head on a swivel. His breathing is pretty even as he starts to approach, weapon covering the possibly wounded woman. His lack of French might mess him up here, but he does know how to very quietly say, "Bonjour." Trying to keep quiet, he prepares to call out again.
Chase Dalton Chase Dalton was in the midst of dispensing orders when Bob decided to move. Of course, Bob did exactly what he (Chase) was planning on doing, though he was going to give Bob a choice: him, or Chase downrange. Obviously, Bob chose to be the 'one man down range', so Chase is left to put his M104 on target, and assume a stable firing position. Good times.
Behemoth The woman stirs and groans and stares at Bob as he speaks to her. She blinks the sun away from her eyes and rocks, suddenly clutching her arms to her stomach. "U-uhh," she whimpers, crying. She tries to stand; she falls to her knees. She curls, half-fetal, and rocks. "H-help me." There's a foul smelling drool caking her chin.
Emma This was expected, Emma doesn't fight back she slumps back a bit in her seat, one hand on her AK the other on her medkit. Eyes move between Poncho and Esa, and then follow Bob as he dares to go out to the women. This is when her big grey-green eyes become locked on the scene, ready to do.. whatever may be needed.
Poncho      The soft hiss of Poncho's filtered breathing drifts from beneath the hood of his garment as he stands ready, shotgun raised and tension slowly building between his shoulder blades.
Vivienne Vivienne winces, training her pistol's sight on the woman as she waits for Bob to give the safe signal. She has a bad feeling about this, especially after hearing that they're surrounded. She shifts on her feet, gaze flickering briefly to the outskirts of the perimeter.
James Scott James stops as Bob moves on. He doesn't advance any further, best not to get too close now that somebody else is handling it. He steps backward until he's next to Vivienne again, ready to stick anything that might try and ambush them. "Something doesn't feel right." he warns quietly, "I think we're being watched."
Esa Esa frowns as he removes the P90 from the clip and wields it. Eyes scanning the horizon slowly. The place was too quiet and reminded him of the missions in the Middle East and elsewhere. Quiet in a combat zone generally was bad. Meant something was about to happen.
Bob Slowly approaching the strange woman, Bob keeps his weapon trained on her until she starts to speak, then lowers it to the low ready. As he gets a little closer he starts to speak again, "I'm here to help. Can you tell me what's wrong?" He seems hesitant to get close quickly, but he eventually does so that he can examine the creepy chick.
Behemoth "I've been bitten," the woman confesses in hurt French, rolling down her left sleeve to show the bloodied marks of attack near her wrist. "The fever comes and goes.. I was running back to my grandmother's apartment, because we heard the vehicles. I collapsed here." She smells bad, and is clearly wounded and ill-- this close, Bob can see she's pale and shaking, sweating.

If no one moves to kill the woman, she can be brought safely into one of the police cars, put in the back and kept under watch. Either way, there's nothing else happening, at the moment-- the group will get back into motion after a minute or two, as the smoke in the distance indicates an ever-present fire risk that could spread and threaten to hit the rest of the city if left unchecked. The Parisian authorities really do not want eight massive blocks of Paris to be completely destroyed, the renovation costs would be immense..

.. though, to be fair, they will already be huge. The vehicles hit a bump in the road that shakes everyone's tummies, and here the cracks in the road appear like fractures in a broken mind. Here, closer to ground zero, the shockwave ruined glass and damaged building supports; here, edifices have crumbled and become skeletal ruin, not the pure leveled nothing of ground zero but damaged. Everyone rides up a small hill, past a grocery, and there, the smell of burning smoke can be seen: an apartment complex has gone up in flame, and judging by the browning of the smoke, it's more than just objects, but structural. There's ample room for it to spread, no cover or place to bunker down, and the damaged city stretches in all directions. A lone hydrant hangs beneath a billboard showing the zoomed-in breasts and smirking lower face of a lingerie-clad woman trailing fingers over her collarbone. Archene's name, and his particular brand of Tricell cologne, is scrawled in French at the bottom.

"Keep on the lookout!" one of the French cops says as everyone parks. The firefighters are rushing to hook up. "And stay away from the fire!"
Emma So much of this is like Racoon, Emma can't help but feel this dark, horrible feeling in her stomach. The more they drive, the worse is gets. Looking down, eyes are fixed on the floor briefly, seeing that woman, remembering how helpless she felt. Nothing can be done. And that woman will turn into something awful, unless she is shot now and put out of her misery.

As they near the rubble, the fire, and that billboard, Archene's name is spotted, with a slow shake of her head. "He - he won't believe this." Mutters the lass, frowning. It's something awful that her friend, and roommate, is attached to now. When the vehicle parks, she looks around, not about to be the first one out, the medic simply awaits her turn.
Chase Dalton "D'Accord. Merci." Understood, thank you, Chase mutters under his breath, returning his attentions to the task at hand. As if he didn't know to keep his wits about him, and stay away from the fire. He tries to put on a good face for the woman. "Ne t'inquiete pas. Reste calme." Don't worry, remain calm. Chase has his sights on the woman. He's not going to shoot her, of course.. not unless she becomes a clear and present danger, and turns into the sum of all fears.. and then he'll be forced to make an executive decision. Or, someone will make it, anyway, Clancy references aside.
James Scott James has no part in dealing with handling the woman, but he does shout ahead for Bob and Chase, "If she's feverish, shoot her! Otherwise it'll bite us in the ass." Literally. He settles back in and waits until they make it to the fire. He hops right out, right hand falling to rest on Lucille. "These guys are way too green." That's likely his way of saying that they're going to die.
Poncho      As their vehicle rolls to a halt, Poncho casts a final glance toward Emma, the soulless lenses of his mask somehow seeming to hold more warmth than his actual eyes ever have.
     "Stay with Esa. He's got more sense than you." rasps the vigilante, his distorted voice cold and impersonal.
     Message delivered, Poncho steps out of the transport and down to earth, boots crunching over loose debris scattered across the cracked concrete. Lowering his weapon into firing position, he braces the heavy shotgun against his armored shoulder and circles around to the first of the two fire trucks. Keeping clear of the bustling workers, he limps out in front of the vehicle and turns to face the buildings across the street from the burning apartment complex. There he keeps watch on their busted windows and darkened doorways, the chuffing engine of the big truck rumbling along a couple of feet to his right.
Vivienne Vivienne waits for instruction but she honestly really wants to shoot the woman and put her out of her misery. As the vehicles move forward and the landscape changes, her face becomes more severe and angry. She wishes now that she had something to help with the billowing smoke that keeps making her cough silently, tears running down her face. She steps back and lets the men and women on the fire truck focus on getting ready to fight the fire while she provides cover.
Bob The medic takes a moment to disinfect and bandage the young woman's arm before guiding her to one of the police cars and sticking her in back. Bob does it silently, however, as his grasp of French is almost nonexistent. "We need to quarantine her when we get back," He tells them in English, hoping someone will figure out what he's saying. Once she's safely stowed, Bob looks at James and frowns, then turns to one of the policemen guarding the police car. He points to his eyes and then to the injured woman. "Fuck," he says under his breath, before he goes to pulling security.
Esa As they came to a halt, Esa took a quick look around. Nodding to Poncho, he rechecked his weapon again before stepping down and stands in front of the area where they had been standing. Weapon held in a low ready; barrel toward the ground, he scans and keeps point. "How are you feeling?" He asks Emma quietly, casually looking over his shoulder briefly as he asked before looking forward.
Behemoth The Raccoon survivors are hardened; the French police are inexperienced, and adhere to the normal civilized reaction of wanting to help their countrywoman, their neighbor, gladly giving her a place among them. One of the younger cops sits in the back with her, conversing in French, keeping her company. "We'll be out of here in no time," he promises, smile bright as the flames.

As one of the firemen, wearing a visored helm and thick gloves, works the hydrant to attach the hose, the other truck pulls along and then parks in front. There's another hydrant further down across the street-- it'll take them a bit longer, but the more the merrier. It's an all together peaceful situation, barring the holocaust of fire sending torrents of blackening smoke into the air, and the waves of heat coming off with injurious force. But everyone has everything under control.

Well, except for the half-dozen lizard men that leap from the fire-spewing facade, balling up midair and rolling across the ground with horrific shrieks. Squat, maybe five feet tall, but thick as linebackers, with scaled skin and faces more human than they have any right to be. There's no time! One is rushing the unarmed fireman wrestling the hydrant.
Bob As one of the lizardmen goes for a firefighter Bob is quick to respond. Lightning fast, he brings up his MP7 and sights the creature's center of mass. And then he unleashes a barrage of automatic fire, the medic keeping his weapon trained on target throughout the whole attack. The rounds strike the monster dead on, tearing through it's skin and leaving a series of neat little holes in the hide on it's torso.
Emma Emma is busy looking around, being as aware as she can. Looking at Esa when he asks there is a little nod. But not feeling much for words, that's all he gets.

Just as suddenly, these lizard creatures are here, and without a doubt there is a pang of fear. Yet, spotting one going for one of their guys, instincts kick in. Even if she is behind Esa, the lass steps away and dodges forward a bit, having had her gun at a ready, and goes to fire it at the lizard creature. But, the lass isn't all to good. The recoil of the AK was more than she could handle, and it causes her to stumble back, bullets hitting the air, just passing by Bob and the lizard creature, doing more damage to the building and her ego, than anything else.
Vivienne Vivienne takes aim at the second lizardman as it charges, a slight smirk on her face as she drops her sights somewhere that it'll remember if it makes it out of this fight alive. A slight squint to make sure she's got her aim and she fires, making the lizardman stumble mid-charge. She moves in front of a firefighter who seems to be more than a little nervous and holds her gun up, ready to fire again when she finds an opportunity.
James Scott While the other members may be shooting James has other ideas. As Emma's shot goes wide the teen breaks out in a run towards the charging lizardman. He must be crazy, challenging these beasts to fisticuffs. But rather than slow down he puts his momentum into the swing and there's a sickening wet crunch as it's thick hide and bones give way, collapsing inward from the sheer ferocity of the blow.

The James train keeps right on rolling, dropping down into a slide. Vivienne's bullet passes right in front of his visor and puts a hole right where the things peen should be. There isn't much time for Lil B the lizard to worry though, because a swift uppercut tears the hole wide, the teen's arm burying itself in with the thing's intestines.
Behemoth The group of lizard-like men spread out and charge the group with wild abandon. Their black hides, charred by the flames, are thick and difficult to damage; small arms fire struggles to penetrate, while even James' fists know B.O.W. resistance when they feel it. The group breaks apart and lunges, one chasing Emma-- it hurls itself at her with a snarl and she twists aside as it shakes the firetruck with a thunderous clamor, ducking beneath the guillotine swipe of its scyth-like fingers. Another strikes at Chase, who does not fare so well; wounded already, he's slow on his feet, and blood sprays into the air as his chest is cleaved by the brutal claws, pain shooting through him in ribbons of sweet ache. And last is Vivienne, who is the halfway point: she throws herself aside as one of the stout creatures tries to take her to the ground, but it is faster than it looks, and whips around to tear at her upper body, leaving a moderate gash. It could have been much worse.

The police, armed with light handguns, are struggling, but combined they are managing to stop one of the ones on a fireman. Those heroes continue to labor, fighting through the panic-- there's lots of yelling, lots of organization, as the hose is finally attached. This mission must succeed; they'll let the hardened warriors take care of the dangers, preparing to turn the water on the building..

Which is good. The loud noises, and the spray of water and bullets, has alerted nearby enemies. The dead walk.
Poncho      The snarl of approaching lizard monsters is punctuated by the sharp crack of gunfire and screams of panicked men. All that noise, not to mention the rattle of engines and roar of pumps. If there are zombies out in the buildings around them, they are most certainly on their way. But, for now, there are lizards.
     Poncho's poncho swirls out behind him as he whirls swiftly about, shotgun coming up to track the bounding lizard as it passes Emma and shoulder checks the fire truck, rebounding unsteadily to aim a swipe toward Emma. Luckily she dodges, giving the masked old man enough time to center his sites on the monster's nearer leg and pull the trigger.
     BOOM!
     Poncho's heavy shotgun bucks, fire and smoke billowing from the barrel as a heavy slug takes the monster in the thigh and tears out a large chunk of scales and meat.
Esa The scene near the truck unfolds fast. The lizard tries attacking Emma and misses; but not the truck as it slams into it. Esa's reaction is quick; as the lizard regains his wits and lashes out with his tail, Esa aims and unloads one round into the Lizard's torso. He cocks the gun to the side and switches it from single shot to full auto. "Damnit." He mutters.
Behemoth As the combat continues, the police and assembled heroes put up a valiant fight, tearing their way through the wall of meat more at home in the lizard Superbowl than the broken, flame-lit streets of Paris. The smoke clouds the air and begins to sting at the eyes, but this is work that must be done, risk be damned.. and would you look at that, handfuls of the infected and transformed are shambling their way down the street, in a clump of flesh sufficiently dense that distinguishing precise numbers is tricky. The fire and the smoke and the vehicles and the everything have drawn attention. But still the firemen work, directing the hoses -- two of them now! -- and blasting the burning building with heavy arcs of cold water. The fire sizzles and cracks.
Bob The first of the monsters to get through the barrage of bullets and fists is the next one to get Bob's attention. Especially as it's attacking not just a civilian, but one he's rapidly becoming friends with. Keeping the weapon on full auto he cuts loose with a pair of long bursts, the rounds chewing through the BOW's scaly hide and through it's vital organs. By the time Bob's done pulling the trigger the lizard man is stone dead and Bob is turning to address the next threat.
Emma Emma just managed to dodge this lizard thing when it was taken down. Pure luck there else she'd of been a Scottish pancake! Having rolled away the AK that was dropped is taken up, with a stumble to her feet. Hair a bit of a mess, face red, the lizard thing attacked Chase is seen. Well this won't do! It sounds like a prayer is said in Gaelic, before she charges forward a little and fires with the AK at the creature, aware now of the recoil, this time she manages it better.
Vivienne Clawed in the chest and stumbling for cover, Vivienne raises a gun to fire and lets off a few wild shots. Unfortunately they all miss, and she lands on her ass, making an attempt to get back to her feet to aim again. She's clearly shaken, and makes an attempt to defend as she's able.
James Scott "That's my Vivienne!" Comes an altered scream of rage from James who pulls his fist from the lizard with a wet sucking sound. He charges headfirst at the creature, leaping up at the last minute to deliver a flying knee to it's back. Unfortunately the charge is noticed and the creature manages to duck aside causing the armored teen's knee to sink into the metal of the truck.

As the beast goes to swipe a claw at him he drops to a kneel, slamming his fist into it's right kneecap, then it's left, crippling it. The accumulated damage is too much and the thing dies before it hits the ground, but James' rage is still burning hot and he stomps it's skull, caving it in much like the man in the catacombs.

"You alright?"
Behemoth The last living B.O.W. meets Emma's bullet-spewing charge head on. It bounds toward her with a primal, four-armed gallop, and crashes into her with bone-jarring force that knocks her flat on her ass. But when it comes in for the follow up slash, she rolls out of the way just in time, leaving the thing staring at her dumbly. The crowd of undead is closer now, slow moving, close enough now to tell there's about ten or eleven of them... the cops are firing on them, but could sure use help!
Esa Esa radio squawks in his ear and a frown crosses his lips as he moves to wrap around the truck. He gets a basic assessment over the radio; someone was under attack by a lizard but wasn't sure who. Responding over radios, Esa assumes control of the situation as Chase goes down. "Sergeant Guillermo, assess Mister Dalton's wounds; Corporal Asherion can you and that fellow finish cleanup of these Lizards? We need to make a hasty retreat with the incoming zombies." He as he bounds around the fire truck, he notes the cops and Poncho unloading on the said zombies.
Poncho      With the lizard directly before him shot to hell by Bob, Poncho turns away, trusting in the others to handle the BOWs. The panicked shouting of the police has drawn his attention, and he can be more use to them while the rest of the squad dog piles the remaining lizard.
     Working the slide of his pump action, he ejects its spent shell and slams a new one home with the iconic 'Ch'Chnk' that has delighted movie goers for decades. The shell is sent tumbling off across the cluttered pavement while Poncho pauses for a fraction of a heartbeat, aims, and squeezes the trigger.
     BOOM!
     The lead zombie of the steadily approaching pack explodes in a spray of chunky matter. its body, sans dome, stumbles on for another couple of steps, before tripping and falling flat, where it twitches and flops mindlessly.
     Twisting his shotgun around, Poncho shoves it into a loop dangling from the left side of his garment, then darts his right hand beneath. Drawing out a comically oversized black pistol, he thumbs off the safety, sights a second time, and pulls the trigger twice in quick succession.
     BANGBANG!
     Down range, two more zombies lose their heads in balls of fire, hungry flame spreading across their bodies as they stumble to the earth.
Bob "Suck it, motherfucker!" Bob exclaims as he turns his weapon towards the monster trying to kill Emma. He waits until just the right moment before cutting loose again, making sure the young woman's out of the line of fire before he sends rounds ripping into the beast. The rounds chew it up, each bullet sliding through it's hide. By the time Bob is finished shooting the monster's still standing while the medic moves towards the downed Chase, keying his radio to declare, "Moving to Dalton. Keep me covered, guys."
Emma Stunned, and on the ground, feeling pain, Emma groans a little, grabs her AK and aims it at the blur that is the lizard. Some shots are let out before the laaa goes to stumble bacm and away.
Behemoth The fight ends in fire and blood; Poncho and the French officers put down the shamblers, while the rest of the group finish off the surviving B.O.W. With the threats managed, the fire can be extinguished in relative safety, though everyone remains hyper-vigilant -- but when at last this immediate threat is contained, it's time to pull out and lick your wounds.
Vivienne Vivienne winces in pain but manages to sight the last lizard and fire off a round. The bullets slam into the large monster, knocking it to the ground. She moves closer to the other police officers, attempting to render aid to the wounded.